


Sweat it Out

by singmetothesun



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singmetothesun/pseuds/singmetothesun
Summary: Gordon takes a leap of faith. Missing scene from Loopstagirl's story "Shiver" - written and posted with full permission.
Relationships: Gordon Tracy & Tracy Family
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Sweat it Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Loopstagirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loopstagirl/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don't own the Thunderbirds or any characters mentioned, and the story [Shiver](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5799105/1/Shiver) (2010) belongs to Loopstagirl over on Fanfiction(dot)Net. Title is taken from the song [Shiver by Eliott Minor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HyKpPZv4SQ4). This fic was planned, written, and posted with Loopstagirl's permission.
> 
> You just need to have read the first five paragraphs of Chapter 1 of Shiver for this to make sense! (But definitely go and read the whole thing anyway because it's so damn good!)

**SWEAT IT OUT**

**~ a missing scene from Loopstagirl's[Shiver](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5799105/1/Shiver) (2010) ~**  
**written by singmetothesun**

* * *

Gordon sighed in relief as his eyes registered no one else left in the room. He was up on the top floor of a three-storey call centre building, checking through the offices for any further casualties requiring evac, and if everything was as he suspected, they might just be heading home soon.

A final sweep of the floor with the scanner in his hands showed that there was indeed no further life signs and a quick check-in with John confirmed so. His sector was now clear. It had been a very long 36 hours and he could already feel the effects making themselves known as he experimentally stretched. He needed a very long sleep, possibly some painkillers or muscle relaxants, and a hard session in the pool, though probably not in that order.

He put a finger to his earpiece. "Alan, you need a hand? I'm all done here."

" _I'm pretty much done, just clean-up left,"_ came the reply, and Gordon could hear the exhaustion and weariness in his brother's voice. They all pretty much sounded like that now, being on-mission for so long does that to a man. Whilst he and Scott had numerous military exercises under their belts with intentional sleep deprivation thrown in, the same couldn't be said for their other brothers, least of all Alan.

On round-the-clock missions such as this one where they had all hands on deck and no man to spare, they followed a strict rota established by Scott and Virgil. It ensured they all took turns manning Mobile Control, as well as rest and hydration breaks, and seeing out food rations.

"I'm on my way over," he said, figuring he'd take some of the lasting weight off his little brother. The kid was doing so well as a part-time operative.

" _F-A-B."_

There was no time for him to react. One second, he was walking back towards the stairwell and the next he was being thrown against the wall with a cry of utter shock as the ground jerked beneath his feet.

It didn't stop.

He swore as a chorus of voices erupted in his ear, yelling at him to take cover. Like he needed telling twice. Another aftershock, a bad one, was tearing up the already fragile area and he struggled to get his balance, dodging falling ceiling debris as he made for the nearest window in one of the offices.

" _Gordon, get the hell out of there!"_ John's voice roared over the comm.

"I'm trying!" he yelled back, resorting to crawling on his hands and knees to keep himself grounded. This was worse than any rough seas he'd ever encountered, sea legs and land legs were rather different things.

There was no point in taking cover, he'd simply get crushed under the volume of debris as the building pancaked. Instinct. It was instinct that told him the building was coming down. The shaking wasn't stopping, and it may only have been seconds since it started but it already felt like a lifetime.

The window he was aiming for imploded in front of his eyes, glass shards shooting everywhere, and he felt his stomach drop. He had seconds left.

His brothers knew this too, as the cacophony of noise in his ears was still there, but then again it was difficult to tell them apart from the pounding of his heart and the all too threatening sound of buckling steel and falling mortar.

He would have to jump for it. It wouldn't be the first time. Through years of Olympic athlete training, brief months of WASP missions, his traumatic accident and subsequent recovery, and all the International Rescue missions he'd been on, his body had long since learned what it's limits were and how to push them just to where he could get away with it. He knew he could handle it. He also had very little choice.

With little thought to an actual landing, his hands grabbed the windowsill and he launched himself out into thin air just as the room lurched sideways and the whole building gave way.

The ground rushed up to meet him and for a split second his stomach jolted as he could feel the office building chasing him, trying to swallow him up. But he'd managed to jump clear, and he hit the dirt with force before bouncing and rolling clear.

It hurt.

He very much heard as well as felt the _snap_ , and even through the adrenaline, he could feel the pain radiating out from the source much like the aftershock through the earth. Usually, the aquanaut prided himself on having a high pain threshold, but with the strain and fatigue of the day-and-a-half mission, his defences were in tatters. He screamed in agony, the pain only intensifying when he tried to move and realised, he must have further aggravated his back in the fall.

"Gordon!"

And then Virgil was there, talking calmly to him as he tried and mostly failed to catch his breath, the pain too great to even get so much of a word out. That was when his head cleared somewhat and there were voices in his ear again. Scott. John. Alan.

His brother helped him sit up, placing steadying hands on his chest and shoulder and started to count. "That's it, Gordon, breathe with me."

They did that for however long it took for Gordon to feel semi-normal again, truth be told he wasn't paying attention to much else.

"I'm going to give you a shot of morphine for the pain now, okay?" Gordon managed to nod, leaning back on his elbows as his brother prepped a syringe from the med-kit. "Keep taking deep breaths. That's good, you're doing great."

He didn't even notice the needle going in, the angry burning sensation of his leg, his back, and the general shock of the impact all blurring into one, what was another pinch added to it all. Virgil was now talking back to their brothers, updating them on Gordon's condition. Gordon himself felt too wiped to say anything, hearing the conversation over his own headset.

"That was some jump, Gords, but other than your leg it seems like just bumps and bruises. How's your back?" Gordon just shook his head and Virgil grimaced in sympathy. "Well, the morphine will help with that too. Once we get you into the medical bay you can have some muscle relaxants and sleep it all off."

Virgil then set to work bandaging and splinting his leg. Gordon could already feel the morphine dulling the worst of the pain, and his jaw ached from gritting his teeth together so forcibly.

" _Two, I need you!"_ came Alan's panicked voice. _"A casualty took a bad hit in that aftershock, head wound and possible spinal injury."_

Virgil swore, still finishing up splinting Gordon's leg. "I'm coming, Allie, try and keep them still and keep pressure on the wound."

" _I've got a First-Aid-trained member of the public doing it, I'll swap with you."_

Gordon opened his mouth to protest that he'd be just fine on his own, but Virgil got there first. "F-A-B, on my way. You gonna be okay, Gords?" he asked, a comforting hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

The aquanaut nodded his head and waved him away. "Go."

Virgil ran off, updating Scott on the way and Gordon tried, and abruptly failed, to get himself to his feet.

 _"Don't even think about it, Gords,"_ John admonished, _"Al's a hundred metres away."_

Gordon deflated, lying back down and grumbling under his breath as his brother chuckled at his stubbornness. He was definitely ready to sleep for a week but that didn't mean he had to immediately surrender. They still had to get him back to Thunderbird Two.

It didn't take Alan long to reach him, his own med-kit slung over his shoulder.

"Come on then, grouch, let's get you up," he said, and Gordon glared up at him, annoyed he was even needing Alan's assistance. "We've used all the hover stretchers though, so you'll have to walk back to Two. But Virg said he gave you morphine, right? You shouldn't feel much of anything anymore."

Alan crouched, allowing Gordon to sling an arm over his shoulder, his brother's arm wrapping around his waist, his good leg braced ready to push himself up to aid Alan's lift. "Ready? On three."

Gordon gritted his teeth in anticipation as he defied gravity but to his rather pleasant surprise Alan was right, there was barely any pain at all, just a mild ache. With the strength of Virgil's splint, he was quite confident he could walk, albeit a bit wobbly, back to the medical bay.

" _How's the leg, Gords?"_ Scott asked and Gordon grumbled again as Alan laughed beside him. Mobile Control was vaguely over to the left somewhere and he left it to Alan to lead them in the right direction.

"I've learnt one thing, Scott. Never try and use a three-storey building as a diving board and expect to walk away from it."


End file.
